


A Certain Appeal

by thegrrrl2002



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-26
Updated: 2011-09-26
Packaged: 2017-10-24 02:05:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/257680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrrrl2002/pseuds/thegrrrl2002
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Tell me, Danny, is 'grab me' written anywhere on my ass?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Certain Appeal

Danny is a detective. He _detects_. So when he finds Steve in the kitchen, leaning over the sink to rinse a glass, he notes that Steve's hair is damp and curling around the edges, indicating he may have just come back from a swim. However, Steve's not in a swimsuit or board shorts. Instead he's wearing a tank top and track pants, suggesting he may have showered outside and simply grabbed clothing from the dryer in the laundry room as he came in. And Danny knows what was not present in that particular load of wash. Underwear.

It's entirely possible there is nothing but Steve under those track pants.

Intrigued, Danny launches into action. He strolls up casually behind Steve as Steve soaps up a dish with his usual focused zeal. "Hey, babe," Danny murmurs as he kisses Steve's shoulder. He rests his hands on Steve's waist.

“Hey.” Steve gives him a friendly bump of the hip.

Danny slides his hands down beneath the elastic waistband of the baggy track pants and directly onto the bare skin of Steve's fine, tight ass.

Bingo.

Steve raises his head. "Tell me, Danny, is 'grab me' written anywhere on my ass?"

"It could be. Hey, let me go get a sharpie and I'll take care of that." Danny sidles up closer. "One word on each cheek. Grab," he squeezes one cheek, "me." He squeezes the other.

"Yeah. I'd like to see you try it." Steve rinses a plate.

"You've got to sleep sometime." Danny nuzzles the back of Steve's neck, even though he has to stand on his tip-toes to do so. It's very annoying. What's also annoying is that Steve is clean. He doesn't smell much like Steve at all, and there's no salty sweat to lick from his skin. Very disappointing.

Steve drops the plate onto the drainboard. "Danny, give me a minute. I'm busy here." He sounds more amused than frustrated.

"What? You're washing dishes. You do know they've got machines to do that now, right?" Danny takes his time exploring the curve of Steve's ass, sliding his palms over hard muscle before dipping his fingers into the warm, damp space in between.

Steve shifts his weight and takes a deep breath. "I'm not going to use the dishwasher for two dishes."

Danny presses his forehead against Steve's back. "You never use the dishwasher. Is that some kind of SEAL thing? Is it not macho enough? Because I hate to say it, but washing dishes, even though you look strangely appealing doing it--it's not exactly the manliest chore in the house."

"Is that why I never see you doing it?" Steve asks. "It's not manly enough for you?"

Danny rubs his cheek against Steve's shoulderblade. "I prefer to live in the twenty-first century and use the dishwasher."

Steve leans back. "I'm still waiting for that to happen," he says over his shoulder.

Danny shrugs, grinning. He gives Steve's ass one final squeeze and then slides his hands around onto Steve's stomach. Pressing in close, Danny flattens himself against Steve's back so that Steve's ass is flush against his stomach. He likes to fall asleep like this, curled around Steve's long body, one arm draped across Steve's chest so he can feel the beat of Steve's big stupid heart.

Steve pauses in his work. "You going to let me finish these dishes?"

"Please," Danny says. "Go right ahead." He moves a hand up over Steve's chest, admiring the sleek, defined muscles, then curls his fingers over Steve's pecs and there it is, Steve's big stupid heart, beating away. Rather swiftly, it seems.

"Danny," Steve says, but there's laughter in his voice.

"What? I'm not stopping you." Danny plays with a nipple, rubbing it with his fingertips until it becomes hard and tight. "Go on, wash. This whole Suzy Homemaker business is adorable." He tweaks Steve's nipple.

There's a thud as something falls into the sink, then Steve curses under his breath. "If I break a glass because of you--"

"Not my fault you're all fumble-fingers." Danny continues playing with Steve's nipple as he moves his other hand down to thumb the line of Steve's hip.

Another sharply drawn breath from Steve, along with a slight tremor in his stomach muscles but he keeps on washing, or rinsing, Danny's not sure what he's doing, all he knows is that Steve's body feels so fucking good no matter what Steve's doing with it. Even washing dishes. Danny works his fingers down into Steve's pubic hair, toying with the coarse curls. Then reaches further the base of Steve's cock and discovers that Steve's already hard. Impressively so.

"Well hello there," Danny says with a grin. He wraps his hand around it, squeezing lightly before stroking it. "You want to complain some more about me bugging you?"

Steve gasps softly, hips moving. "Maybe--maybe I find dishwashing exciting."

"Right. Like I'm buying that. You're weird. Steve, but getting aroused over soapy wet plates? Not that weird." Danny gives Steve's cock a long, slow pull.

Steve laughs, soft and breathy and Danny wants to kiss him, but even on his toes he can only reach Steve's ear. Which is less than satisfying but at least it makes Steve shudder in an impressive manner.

"What I really want to do is bend you over this sink and fuck you, right here." Danny presses his cock against Steve's ass.

Steve makes a low noise and pushes back at him, rubbing himself against Danny's erection.

"And I tell you, it freaks me out more than a little because what the fuck, I never had a kitchen kink before or a sink kink but you make me want to do these things," Danny continues. "I want you bent over, hands grabbing the counter, I want to make you come all over these fucking cabinets."

He wants to sink into the tight heat of Steve's body, wants to hear Steve moan his name, he wants Steve to break all the fucking glasses in the sink. He wants to run his hands up over Steve's sweaty, naked back as he fucks Steve right there in the kitchen, while Steve is standing on the god damn blue braided rug that always slides out from Danny's feet and ends up crumbled against the baseboard.

A dish falls from Steve's hand and clatters in the sink. "Danny--"

"But you're too god damn tall for that to happen," Danny continues, frustrated. "And that, right there, is one of the great tragedies of my life."

Steve's cock is damp at the tip, and when Danny spreads the moisture over the head with his thumb Steve groans, rocking his hips and pushing into Danny's hand and fuck, Steve's going to make Danny crazy, he truly is. Danny wraps an arm tight around Steve's waist and mouths the back of Steve's shoulder, stroking Steve steadily now. He wants to make Steve come, he wants to feel Steve shake and fall apart in his arms.

Steve makes a noise almost like a growl as he shoves back against Danny, a hand moving to cover Danny's hand and then in a flash, Steve spins around to face him, hooking an arm around Danny's body and yanking him in.

"Whoa-- hey, hey," Danny exclaims, startled. "I was doing a thing here."

"Yeah?" Steve asks, his eyes dark and focused. "Well now I'm doing a thing."

Before Danny can tell Steve that he doesn't get to do his thing while Danny is doing his, Steve is kissing him, hard and hungry and Danny welcomes the taste of Steve's mouth, whimpering a little as Steve's teeth scrape against his lower lip.

Steve's hand is in his hair, holding him in place, his other hand sliding down to cup Danny's ass. Moving closer, Steve pushes a thigh between Danny's legs and Danny stumbles backward, hanging onto Steve to keep from falling. Steve stakes another step and Danny stumbles back yet again. Steve is pushing him, forcing him to move and fuck, that's kind of rude. Danny wants to protest but he can't, not with Steve kissing him like that and okay, fine, maybe he's too busy kissing Steve back just as fiercely.

Then Steve lifts him--actually lifts him without any effort and Danny finds himself seated on the edge of the kitchen table. It's all too much.

"Unhand me, you brute," Danny insists, breaking off the kiss.

"Come on," Steve says, nipping the side of Danny's neck. "You love it."

"Love it? You think I love being manhandled by a big, ruthless beast like you? Tossed on a kitchen table and ravaged like I'm some kind of--oh, god," Danny gasps as Steve slides a hand down over his cock. "You're right, I fucking love the hell out of it."

He yanks Steve in for another kiss and Steve's laughing now, the bastard. "You think this is funny?" Danny asks.

In response, Steve pinches Danny's nipple, right through his shirt.

"Fuck, you make me crazy, you know that?" Danny gets grabs two handfuls of Steve's shirt and pulls. The shirt comes off in an instant--like Steve's shirts often do.

“But in a good way, right?” Steve asks, with a grin that's a touch too smug.

“No, no, it's not like that at all. God, look at you.” Danny touches Steve's chest, a bit awestruck, as always. All that hard muscle, the soft fuzz of hair, he'll never get over how good Steve looks. He pulls Steve in for another fantastic, bruising kiss, then reaches down to nip at the crook of Steve's neck.

Steve's hands move down and Danny realizes Steve is trying to unfasten his pants. Eager to help, Danny leans back on his arms to give Steve room to work. Only once his pants are unbuttoned and unzipped, there's no where for them to go--Danny has no leverage, he can't lift his hips since his feet are dangling above the floor.

"Up," Steve says, trying to tug Danny's pants and underwear off.

"I can't. What would like me to do?" Danny asks. "Float in the air?"

With a frustrated noise Steve reaches down and puts his hand under one of Danny's feet and lifts, allowing Danny to lean back on his arms and raise his ass from the table. With his other hand, Steve yanks Danny's pants off. His movements are swift and sure and in a second, Danny's trousers and underwear are on the floor.

"Okay," Danny admits, staring down at the pile of discarded clothing. "That was hot."

Steve laughs again, pushing Danny flat on the table and Danny begins to unbutton his shirt. If he doesn't, those buttons are going to be toast, because that's what kind of beast Steve is, the kind that won't hesitate to pop every button of his shirt. Only it's hard to make his hands work right, since Steve's hands are on his cock, and he's crowding in close, making Danny spread his legs and lift them up high and honestly he's kind of shameless when it comes to Steve but he's pretty sure Steve doesn't mind.

"Oh, fuck," Danny gasps, giving up on the buttons. He clasps his legs around Steve's waist, tugging Steve closer. Somewhere along the line Steve's lost his track pants and his skin is hot against Danny's thighs, his cock nudging Danny's hip.

Steve pushes Danny's shirt up, bunching it under his arms, then stretches out over Danny, his hips fitting over Danny's hips, his cock sliding wetly against Danny's skin--so good, so fucking good. Danny groans as he grabs Steve's shoulders and shoves his hips up, rubbing his cock on Steve's hip. Steve rocks against Danny, one hand gripping the edge of the table and fuck, this is what they've come to, rutting against each other on the damn kitchen table, Steve's heavy body above him, the wooden table hard and cool against his back, Steve's mouth on his, kissing away what little breath he has left.

It's fantastic.

Desperate, Danny shifts his hips. As good as it is, it's not quite good enough, he's not getting enough friction, he still can't move enough and it's going to drive him crazy. He whimpers, trying to fit a hand between them, because if he doesn't come soon he's going to go out of his fucking mind.

"Steve, please," he says, kissing Steve's neck. Steve tastes of salt and sweat now, just like he should, his skin slick beneath Danny's lips. "I need to, I need--"

He doesn't know what he needs, but thank god Steve does. Steve pushes himself up, lips parted, cheeks flushed, muscles tense and he's so fucking gorgeous that Danny thinks he might just come from the sight of him. Then Steve takes Danny's cock in his big, rough hand and pushes their cocks together, wrapping his hands around them and stroking both at once.

"Oh god." Danny pushes up on his elbows so he can watch. "Look what you can do." He gasps again, hips jerking involuntarily as Steve squeezes him. His heels dig into the small of Steve's back, but Steve doesn't seem to notice. Or care.

"Close?" Steve asks, licking his lips. "Come on, Danny, you close?"

"Uh," Danny nods, hands flat on the table, sweaty palms sliding over the surface.

Steve lets go for a brief moment to lick the palm of his hand, then begins jerking Danny off with firm, steady strokes, his eyes fixed on Danny's face. "Closer?" he asks in a hoarse voice. “Let me see you.”

Danny groans, squirming helplessly. He's on the brink, almost there, that exquisite moment before it actually happens and he can feel Steve's eyes on him, like a physical weight, pinning him to the table and then in one great rush he's there, hips jerking as he comes in long, hard pulses. It's fantastic, mind-bendingly fantastic, he can't even breathe, all he can do is ride it out to the shuddering end.

"God, Danny," With a desperate noise Steve runs a hand through the wetness on Danny's belly and jerks himself off with it, leaning over Danny, one hand on the table, supporting himself. Danny wants to help, he truly does but he can't move, he's boneless and wasted and maybe a bit stunned and then with a sharp cry Steve comes all over him.

And Danny loves it. He loves the noises Steve makes, loves the way he screws his eyes shut when he comes, loves the sight of Steve touching himself and god help him, he loves the warm spatter of Steve's come on his skin.

This is what being with Steve does to him. It's nuts, it truly is.

Steve is still leaning over him, eyes closed, head hanging down as one last tremor runs through his body. "Hey, hey," Danny says, squeezing his legs gently. "Babe. You still with me?"

Steve opens his eyes and smiles slowly, the kind of smile that makes Danny's heart feel like it's gong to flip over in his chest. The kind of smile that makes Danny want to do everything all over again. Or, at the very least, hug the hell out of Steve. Which he does, sitting up with some effort and wrapping his arms around Steve's shoulders. Steve immediately squeezes him tight and Danny grunts as the air is pushed out of his chest but he's got his arms and legs wrapped around Steve now, and his chest pressed against Steve's sweaty chest.

It's a good place to be.

"Oh god that was good," Danny says, rubbing his mouth against Steve's shoulder, still enthralled with the taste of Steve's skin. Now that he's not so squeaky clean. "Better than good. There are no words for how good it was."

Steve nods, breathing heavily against Danny's neck.

“Almost as much fun as washing dishes, huh?” Danny adds. “Ow, hey--” he barks as Steve nips his neck.

“Come here,” Steve says, pulling Danny in for a kiss. It's sweet and kind of sloppy and he's still holding onto Danny pretty damn tight, just the way Danny likes it.

“Don't you have more chores to do?” Danny teases, running a hand through Steve's hair. “Vacuuming? Although I'm pretty sure that would lead to rug burn for both of us. Maybe you need to clean the bathroom? Hmmm?”

Steve laughs. “I don't even want to know, Danny.” He slithers from Danny's grip. “Now move over.”

Danny slides over, his sweaty ass sticking to the table top. “My daughter is never eating another meal at this table,” he announces as Steve stretches out next to him, naked and sweaty and beautiful. Steve laughs again, a deep belly laugh this time. Danny lies down beside him, staring at Steve's profile and grinning.

“Goofball,” he says, poking Steve with his toe as Steve just keeps on laughing.


End file.
